To my professors,
Here I am, drowning in a sea of homework and over-commitment. Although it is you who have given me the homework, I am the one who has overcommitted myself.
I would like to thank you. Although I really don’t utilize you all enough, nor do I chat with you enough to get to know you and you, me, know that I truly appreciate everything you do.
You would bend over backward for your students, and I’ve seen you do it time and time again because you’re invested in the person, not the institution. You’re not in this profession for the fortune or for the fame (of which some of you make casual jokes about here and there). You’re in it because you want to help us succeed. You want to make our transition into the real world as fruitful as it can be, and you change lives with simple acts of encouragement.
You are all absolutely wonderful people, and I wouldn’t trade your love, grace, and kindness for the world.
Dr. Dora-Laskey, your smile and genuine interest in who I am as a person have been something I have taken so strongly to heart. From day one of meeting me, you have been one of my fans. Even if our meetings are generally short because I’m always prepared and on top of my class registration, know that even those few moments are held so dear. Your offer (insisting, really) to take chocolate with me each time I depart from your office looks like a small act of kindness on the outside, but inside it is a connection that I look forward to sharing with you each time I walk up to your door.
Professor Bissell, I called you Dr. Bissell for nearly the entire semester that I was in your creative writing class. It was mostly because I wasn’t sure what your title was and had been guided by a friend to always refer to an instructor in college as “Dr.” unless they tell you otherwise. I was taught it was simply respectful, but I think you appreciated it and that it made you laugh. Thank you for being interested in me and for being so cool about me missing our very first class meeting. I was nearly in tears on my way to your office, ashamed that I missed my first creative writing class (something that meant so much to me). You completely understood and granted me peace that my timid and anxious freshman heart needed.
Dr. Cartrite, you taught me that I could discuss politics without being ashamed or feeling like it wasn’t my place to talk about such matters. You taught me that I could have an opinion and that I should have an opinion. You taught me that I really need to be more aware of what’s going on in our world and make a better effort to be informed. I loved your class so much I considered being a political science minor. (It’s on my list of minors I’d tack on if I had the time alongside Women’s and Gender Studies, Spanish, Music… the list goes on for a while. If only…)
Dr. Cunningham, I hated economics in high school. It was dry and dull and I had no interest. I understood how to make a transaction at McDonald’s, and I knew that prices everywhere seemed to be increasing, but I had no real knowledge of how money really works and all the theory and real-world application was involved in the subject. I may not have always completely understood the concepts, but I learned a lot from your class, and I loved economics by the time the semester ended.
Dr. Chen, although I purposely tried to contradict and rebel against the papers you wanted us to write by putting my own spin on them, you graded them accordingly and pushed me really hard to revise. At one point I cut out all but two paragraphs of a four to five-page paper and cried, but my essay was so much better for it. You taught me that sometimes I say too much and that my writing is not perfect the first time around. Revise, revise, revise. You loved my one-page flash fiction piece at the end of the semester, though, and that felt amazing.
Dr. Seals, you’re no longer at Alma, but I want you to know that you made a huge impact on a newly-decided education major. Your enthusiasm for the field and your constant encouragement mixed in with humor that made us freshman smile may very well be the reason I knew that this is what I wanted to do with my life. You made teaching seem doable while reminding us that it’s not a great world for teachers out there and that sacrifices would have to be made. You told us over and over how worth it would be, and even just being in placement classrooms, I couldn’t agree more.
Dr. Aspinall, I can’t say enough how bummed out I was that you were gone my first year at Alma. You were famous on campus, both among students and faculty, and I looked forward to being in your Presidential Honors Program and getting to interact with such an amazing guy. It turned out you would not be on campus and my heart sank. This was a professor who loves Shakespeare like I do, who loves old literature, and who has a big heart. I didn’t get to meet you until my sophomore year (last year) when we had our honors seminar class, but we clicked immediately. You acknowledged the extra effort I put into my presentations and papers and could do nothing but smile when I got all fired up about “The Yellow Wallpaper.” Now I’m in your Brit Lit class, and I could not ask for a more passionate professor. You always are sure to say hi to me, and I love hearing your stories about your younger days.
Dr. Slaughter, I took three years of high school Spanish, so I thought I would be set for college. Placing into a 200 level class as a freshman seemed daunting, but I found my love for Spanish continued to grow and that I picked up the new material easily. My accent is far from perfect and sometimes I struggle with remembering the right words to say in typical conversation, but you really pushed me to grow when I thought I knew enough, and your nudging me to tack on Spanish as a minor always makes me laugh.
You all, and each professor I have been under the counsel of, have made so much of a difference in my past two years of college and continue to do so going into my third year. Alma College is made great because of its faculty. They care about you. They want to watch you triumph, and they’re some of the first to lend a hand (or an extension on an assignment) if you need it. Academics are important, sure, but your character will be a part of you forever after you’ve forgotten what type of government Libya has and which metals are the alkaline ones.
To each and every professor, keep doing what you’re doing. Although you may feel like you go unnoticed, know that you make such a difference in each and every student’s life.
